Is between you and me, yes?

Insert cliched Russian accent here -

"how much you pay? $15? We say $15 yes, and I not use meter. I think you think this is pretty good deal yes. Is between you and me, yes? Yes. I think so."

I love taxi drivers.

Killing time....

Amanda Gai Anne Buckley's Aliases

Your movie star name: Jaffle William Your fashion designer name is Amanda Letterkenny Your socialite name is Bickers Dublin Your fly girl name is A Buc Your detective name is Seal Nazareth Your barfly name is Pfeffernusse G&T Your soap opera name is Gai Anne Kurrajong Your rock star name is Binkas Ferrari Your Star Wars name is Amabar Bucwil Your punk rock band name is The Reflective Egg Slicer

The Amazing Meganame Generator

Oops I did it again!

The text message read:

"You can't miss it this year! Please Please Please....remember the fun we had in Byron"

Yes. Yes I did remember the fun we had in Byron, and it was indeed fun. It was more than fun though, it was genius. And with that recollection of that genius time, I have now found myself in the midst of another Yescapade.
Yesterday, I went on-line and found and purchased tickets to a music festival called The Electric Picnic. In Ireland. In August. In 2007. InSANE? No, just happy to say YES!

Although I now have to wait around 9 months for this Yescapade actually happen, its opened the door to planning, and I love to plan.
I have to get a flight. Actually, why not visit some friends while I'm over in that neck of the woods. Why not check out the Edinburgh Fringe Festival and do some heavy duty research about how to put on a show? Why not indeed.

I have also spent a lot of this morning looking at my calendar and adding things to it - it appears that if I am itchy, I can scratch myself on Feb 28th and then again some time in May....but only if I really must. This full time job caper is getting harder and harder to justify - now if I could just make money some other way that could allow me my flights of fancy and to pay the rent....and still give me the free time I need to rehearse and jam and perform....what if I could get paid to rehearse and jam and perform....now there would be an ideal world. I'd probably meet a suitably nice single man in that world too - ah, who I am kidding, that would just be mental.

Back to my Yescapade .... smile.

The text message read:

"OMG! I have just purchased Electric Picnic tickets! I am coming to Ireland! Believe it!"

Bliss.

Friends - Romans - Countrymen - Whoever!

Opportunity knocks for Amanda Buckley.

Its not often you hear a song with the line:

This is for all the single people

while you are reading your astrological prediction for the day that tells you:

You will gain satisfaction from those relationships that are stable, irrespective of with whom they are. If you were to begin a new partnership or romantic affair, while it may not be demonstrative, it will have longevity and be incredibly steady.

which is pretty cool.
I am really getting into this whole astrological readings business. Afterall, who can argue when the outlook is this good. If I have interpreted todays message correctly, Mr Right is just around the corner and regardless of whether we a) are attracted to one another b)are suitable for each other or even c) cannot stand each other, he will be the one and we will be all death do us part and stuff....awesome.
31 is as exciting as I had thought it would be - and its only one week in!

Hoorah!

Well in that case!

My stars say I should keep my mouth shut today. Avoid decisions. Basically just keep a low profile and go to sleep and save it for tomorrow.....

I will leave it then, to my co-worker, Hill Song Christian and all round sage advisor to sum up my thoughts today -

"Aw, that so sucks."

Waiting for life.....

Two days left.
Only two more days.
Then I will be 31.

I have LOVED being 30. I can honestly say that this has been the year of my life. This year I have:

Sorted out an apartment.
Wrote and performed a cabaret show.
Performed in two comedy festivals.
Entered a stand-up comedy competition.
Improvised a new play 7 times.
Filmed an ad for Japanese TV.
Filmed an online campaign for Yahoo!7.
Had two international guests stay at my house.
Visited four countries not my own.
Mended a broken heart.
Had my heart broken.
Met 3 men I thought were worth crying over.
Cried over two of them.
Said goodbye to a loved Nanna.
Welcomed a 2nd Nephew.
Made two new wonderful friends.
Strengthened some very important existing friendships.
Scared myself.
Rewarded myself.
Laughed. A lot.

I am sure that is just the tip of the iceberg.
I have very recently learnt that if I cannot understand myself at times, I cannot really expect someone else to. Not that I want to go all "confessional" but I'm feeling a little reflective this afternoon...what with the lack of work in my tray...my mind is wandering.

I have wanted to be in my 30's for the longest time, I was never keen on being in my 20's, but I think there is something around the corner that only my 30's could bring. This year was the start of me liking who I am, LOVING the community of friends and family I have and being ready to take a big swing at life. To start understanding who I am and what I want.

In two more days, my 30's will be here....I cannot wait.

She who laughs last....

Laughs loudest. Yes. Its true. When the she is me. Actually if the she is me, then it makes no difference whether I laugh first or last....

Recently I was made to feel somewhat of a pariah because of my laugh and I thank those of you who rallied behind me and said lovely nice things.

And so I must also thank Dan Willis, UK Comedian and saviour of the laughter. Last night at the Comedy Store, approximately 10.30pm, Mr Willis not only acknowledged the laugh, but praised it, making this little Australian a very happy lady. No longer will I giggle into my hands, no more will I bow my head - oh no, its slapping thighs and throwing back heads and laughing long and loud from now on in.
Take that Benita.
Take that.

People....they rock!

My Father retired this year. After 45 years with the same company. Pretty extraordinary and not likely to be something I, or anyone of my generation will experience.
I had the pleasure of accompanying my Dad, along with my Mum, to his send off celebrations this week, a truly wonderful experience.
Something happens as you get older, you see your parents as people, not just protectors, providers or whatever else of the hundreds of things they are to a child. I was completely happy, proud and inspired to get a glimpse of the life my Dad leads away from his family.
It turns out, as I have always suspected, that he is respected, that he was a good boss, a great workmate, a wonderful friend...and most people think he is pretty darn good. Yes, as I always suspected, my Dad is a good man. A great man.

Here's to my Dad, Terry Buckley. My hero.

I have had a week of mixed reviews....up, down, you name it, I felt it this week. I finished this week high though, and happy, and relieved. People are so complex, so surprising, so unpredictable....I just love them. So if you're a person out there, look out, coz chances are, I have a little crush on you.

Why I'm Annoyed

I am tired.
Very sleepy.
Tres fatigue.

This makes me a little sensitive. A portion emotional. A deal irrational.

I did not get a lot of sleep this week, which is more or less normal, what with my continuing obsession with the relationship between myself and the cast of the West Wing - come on Josh, tell Donna you love her - and the fact that I have a hard time saying no...which I kinda like. But I am, as a result, fragile today.

My normal routine when I get to work is, coffee, cereal, emails - early starts mean its OK to eat brekky whilst checking out your inbox, and this usually puts me in good stead for the day - not this morning however...

A certain man had been in my shared office space, a man who had a rather strong smell, so strong in fact, that full hour after he has left, I can STILL smell him. I felt like I was eating a bowl of sweaty weet-bix and nothing says annoyed like a headache brought on body odour. I think odour should be spelt oh-dear coz damn if I didn't vomit a little in my mouth.

Its not a great start to my day. Also, there is almost NOTHING to do at work today, making the next 6 hours appear to be very long indeed. We do not even have a sick-bay where I could maybe lay down for a bit and get my strength back. All I have is an endless supply of tea and my ever increasing frustration to keep me company. I do not envy my co-workers at all....I can feel a tantrum coming on.......

I see dead people

Well, not people....although one day I may just decide to sit down and write about my whole "past life memory" thing that I have got going....but that is not for now.
No, what I mean is I see dead things. I did this morning anyway, and seeings as I live in the inner suburbs of Sydney, road kill should not be as common as it was today.

On my way to work this morning, at 6:45am on what would never ever be described a country road, I ran over the following dead things (let me make that incredibly clear - these were very dead, very squashed things):
1) a possum
2) a magpie
3) a cat

I was on a six lane highway with many vehicles around me so without the "swerve" luxury I would normally indulge in, I was forced to drive over these already very tragically dead animals.

Not the best start for a Karma Army Good Friday.....I feel the need to visit a petting zoo or similar to make amends with the animal kingdom.
Or maybe I will just not eat meat today.
Though I do feel like a Pauls Famous Hamburger for lunch.
Maybe I don't feel bad anymore - they were ALREADY dead afterall....and I mean, its not like a highway is any place for a possum anyway. Idiot animals. I mean, really, whats so important that they couldn't cross at the lights? - and the magpie??? HELLO!!! Whats the point in having wings????????????

I think I'll have a burger with the lot.

Oh the Shame!

I have a loud laugh.
Its got more personality than I'll ever have.
It has more friends than me.
It even has better hair....and that's saying a lot, as I have damn fine hair if I do say so myself.
In a way, I loathe my laugh. I wish it would be more cute, more girly, more subtle, but no, its a "couple of Yugoslavians trying to start up a Volkswagen" if you believe what Ross Noble had to say about it.
Two nights ago, Benita Collings, Playschool host - mentor of my toddlering years, friend of Jemima and Big Ted - pilot of the ROCKET CLOCK - told me to "be quiet". Her and her friend even moved seats because of my "belligerent chuckle". I wasn't meaning to wage war, just show my appreciation for the hilarity of the impro I was viewing.
Perhaps, maybe just, there will be silence from now on.

.....

Probably not though.

Did you know?

I learnt something this morning.
God IS coming back.
Who knows where?
Who knows when?
BUT he IS coming and I should start preparing.
Apparently, I have not been taking it seriously enough...but there is still time for me to change my ways.

Or...you know, I could just take the piss and post a blog about my Hillsong co-worker.

I haven't decided yet.

Amen.

The Man, The Mop, The Myth

We have a man at a work. Actually, we have about 60 (and only 3 women - apparently good odds for a single lady, but don't even get me started on that. Alright, well, I have started...lets just say that the average age of a male employee at my workplace is 54 and most of these men tell me on a daily basis that I had better get married soon. I am not sure why I had better, maybe I have an expiry date on the back of my head that everyone can read apart from me?) Anyway, we have this one man at work who comes in every morning at 6.50am and cleans.
I get in around 7.10am most mornings and so I witness the mans cleaning technique.
I know not his name. He knows not mine. We share not conversations or pleasant chit chat - but we do smile and he then laughs. (I think he can see the expiration date as well).
Anyway, he seems capable enough. He vacuums and at times he mops. Today, he mopped the top of the stairs. Only trouble with this is, though, is that there is carpet at the top of the stairs. Interesting. Because of the chats we do not share, I was unable to really say anything, and so, I just watched. And then smiled. To which he laughed. (maybe I permanently have something stuck in my teeth?) For some reason, I was the one that felt slightly silly, even though he just mopped the carpet. Ho hum.

Maybe its me?

I will admit, that I am not nearly as patient as I used to be. I will also admit, that with the coming of age, I have become more and more intolerant.
I am not saying I am a racist - I am increasingly INtolerant of such things - I just mean to say that things I would normally have been unaffected by have started to push my buttons.
Like conversations about butter. Or shopping. Or handcream.
Seriously. I just do not care. I have to try with all my might to stay awake when accidentally finding myself in the middle of such a conversation....try doing that without looking impolite! I have just experienced such an encounter. No doubt by days end I will have experienced a few more.
All of that said though, I find nothing wrong with a lengthy exchange simply citing Mighty Boosh quotes. Unfortunately, no one I work with knows the Boosh and those I know that have probably are sick of me banging on about them.
Here's a picture anyway.

Sigh. Sniff. Sob.

You know that scene in Bridget Jones' Diary where she is worried that she is going to die alone and not be found and henceforth will be eaten by alsatians?
Well, I worry.
Thats all I am saying.
My mother, recently, in what I am sure was meant to be the conversational equivalent of a soothing pat on the back said to me, "Well maybe there is no one out there for you...."
To put it into context, we were talking about all the things I can do and should do while I am unattached...I was positive about the risks I am able to take in life because at present, I really only have to consider myself in the consequences, and my mother added that it was important for me to have a strong hold on my life, to live fully, to take risks because nothing comes from sitting around and waiting and afterall, "maybe there is no one out there for you...."
At the time I laughed, thanked my Mother for her sageness and went on my merry way.
A week or so later I was visiting a married friend at her house and was, well, attacked by her two dogs. Granted, they are labradors not alsatians, but it got me thinking, can dogs smell singletons - you know, like the way they can apparently smell cancer?????
This kind of thinking, coupled with my inability to move on from a certain heartache of the past has been my undoing of late. At the height of my dizzying happy YESes, I have highlighted some of my worrying lows....these moments are fleeting and I remind myself quickly of all the great and amazing things I have going on and I have been and will be a part of - but you know, whats it all about ....?
You know? Do you?
I find in these moments, a cup of tea* works wonders.

*failing that, gin.

Walk like an Egyptian

I am all for advancement.
Endeavours.
Adventures.
I would like to think that if a friend of mine came to me with a plan on how they wanted to achieve a personal goal, or heck, if they were just going to undertake a crazy get rich quick scheme (because of course that would entail hilarity and hi jinx and tales to tell over beers), I would be supportive.
I know that in the future, I will probably make an announcement to my friends and family that I will be turning my back on conventional money making ventures (read: jobs) and opting for the more sporadic and reliably unreliable world of entertainment on a full time scale. And I would hope they would applaud my vision and buy me a drink (probably one of many to come seeings my days will be filled with yet another rejection from a production company, theatre director, record company etc).
What I can tell you though, is that if you ring me up and invite me for a coffee so we can catch up and you can go over a few things with me...and I say yes and it turns out that you just want to me to a) host or b) go to a party designed to make me spend money on things I do not really need all under the guise of it being fun and convenient, I will be none too happy.
The modern day pyramid. I am faced with this on a daily basis. I work with a "consultant", my friends mother is a "consultant", everyone seems to know someone who is "consulting" and who can read any situation as being a call to arms for the product of choice.
eg.
"Whats for lunch?"
"Leftovers"
"ahhhh, you know Tupperware never stains and can be put in the freezer and microwave and has a lifetime guarantee...I have this brochure...."
"...hmngh phgsno...." (mouth full of food)
One cannot apply hand cream in the office without a "this one uses lavender and is on special"....and heaven forbid I yawn..."we do a relaxation spa that really relieves stress and will help you sleep...." Maybe, just maybe, I like being tired and stressed with slightly dry skin, and maybe I like the look of old spaghetti sauce stained onto my lunch container.....
If I want something I will come to you!!!!!!!!
Now, I have to go and tell some friends, so they can tell their friends.

Good Morning Starshine!

I get up early. I mean, not like breakfast radio early, but early enough for someone who stays up late. I start work at 7am most days (7.30am on those other days when getting up is just too difficult)and it can be tough. I feel most days like I have a hangover (OK, so most days I do) even when I haven't been drinking. There is one thing however which consistently means I have a smile on my face most mornings.

Email.

There is something fantastically joyous about logging on in the morning to find what the postman has delivered overnight.

Today for instance, not only was I offered the chance to help another budding scientist make loads of money by giving him my bank details, but I was also greeted with an email from Musician no. 2. (Musician no. 2 is indeed the second musician in a line of many musicians who have made me weak at the knees, only to have chosen another woman over me....) And that people, is enough to power a happy vibe for at least two days.

The downside to this instant mood-enhancer is the morning you get to work, make your coffee, log-on and find no new messages. That is akin to having a party where no one turns up (OK so maybe not that bad, but I said akin, not "exactly like") and the day cannot reclaim that feeling of anticipation, that promise of joy that occurs as your email account is saying things like "loading...." - alas, once you see that there be no new messages, I am afraid, the early morning becomes all too much.

But that did not happen today. No sirree Bob. Because today, even after only getting 5 hours sleep, there is a smile on my face....Thank you Musician no. 2. Happy days indeed.

Dear Valued Customer

Somewhere between by first ever job as a video store attendant in 1990 and my current 18th job as an administrative officer, I have become a customer who complains. Not one of those "complains over anything" kind of complaining customers, no, not one of those, I am the other kind, who knows how I should be treated and is not afraid to speak out when an injustice has taken place. Indeed, my money is hard earnt and too easily spent, so I need the reassurance of a kindly face and a well used set of manners to make me happy. And I think its not too much to ask for.

A few months ago a group of friends and I were subject to some incredibly poor service at a well-known "beer restaurant" in Sydney where the overpriced food and beverages are looked past due to the normally fantastic atmosphere and lets face it, the more beer you drink, the less you notice the cost...right?

Unfortunately, for whatever reason, our waitress Jaz did not like us. Not only did she not like us, she told the other staff not to like us as well (we think) and so what was meant to be a great night turned into an anticlimax and left us all feeling a little dirty and a tad angry....so I complained. And although it took two months - yes two months - I received a golden ticket - a drink/meal voucher worth $100 for our troubles and well, I think I feel like I can finally forgive Jaz. I mean, she was probably an actress or a writer - maybe a singer or comedian and she was just having a tough day because for the 6th time that week she had stuffed up an important audition (or something like that). Hey, we all have bad days right? (actually, no, I am still a little angry at her.)

So I feel justified now in my complaint, and I have complained since then too. On my recent lightning tour, I was without inflight entertainment from Sydney to Singapore, and without a reading light from Singapore to London....so I have let Qantas know I was disappointed. They take up to 20 business days to deal with these things, or so their generic "we have received your complaint" email explained....I have another 7 business days to wait....fingers crossed!

In the meantime, I am not going to become a serial complainer, fear not potential waiters and waitresses, and I still like to tip when the service is good....but don't push me. I have a keyboard, and I'm not afraid to use it!

I concede.

It suddenly got all too much.

The overwhelming sensation hit during my weekly singing session and it was as clear as day - I needed to sleep.

I went home. Ate dinner (palak paneer and half a bottle of red wine) and went to bed. All I could manage was one page of the book I was reading. I was barely able to turn the light out - I was under. And 9 - yes 9 - hours later at 6am I woke up - MORE TIRED THAN EVER BEFORE!!!!!

I have not really had more than about 6-7 hours sleep for easily a few months now, and I fear that since I have given in, I have become sleeps bitch. I just want more now. If I am not sleeping, then I am thinking about sleep. I am imaging sneaking off during work hours for a quick kip...what have I become???????

It has to stop. After tonight. I am going to allow myself one more night of pure, unadulterated sleep bliss - and then back to my measly 6 hours. Must remember my mantra, "sleep is for the weak"...which in my case, is true - too much sleep and I am a mess!!!!

Meanwhile, in other news, I have become an ambassador for the small country of Lovely - officially joining its ranks and taking its oath. My flat has become an embassy of Lovely, flying its flag and sporting a lovely portrait of our leader, King Danny I. And it feels lovely to be a part of it.

Just another day....

September 26th - an example of an ordinary day in the life of me...

I awake at 6am to find I have slept with a cockroach. Well, a dead cockroach that I believe fell from my ceiling at some stage during my slumber but was kind enough to fall on my bed....a pleasant awakening I assure you.

Work - 7am. All seems to be going swimmingly and I make the grand discovery thanks to google of the book "How to Catch and Hold a Man," by Yvonne Antelle. It is pure gold, full of insights and advice such as "Keep thinking of yourself as a soft, mysterious cat.... Men are fascinated by bright, shiny objects, by lots of curls, lots of hair on the head ... by bows, ribbons, ruffles and bright colors.... Sarcasm is dangerous. Avoid it altogether." Amen sisters.

I receive an email confirming that I have been cast in an upcoming new and exciting promotional campaign - fantastic news and I am very chuffed.

My agent calls and I have an hour to bluff my way out of work and get to an audition - my agent is more than vague about this .... all I know is the where and when I am meant to be audititioning....oh the mystery.

I make the audition and hoorah indeed, I have just auditioned for the role of "fatty in the mirror". No word of a lie. I indeed went for a casting that was merely me standing looking at the mirror....as the "before" shot. My pride and what I have left of my dignity are feeling a little bruised....can I possibly contemplate a gig that has me being the "before" lady for all the world to see for a measly fist full of dollars???? (well, yes .... I have to pay for next years "lightning tour" somehow!)

Now, back at work, avoiding actually doing any work by posting a blog entry....in half an hour I drive off to visit my friend in the burbs for dinner at the local "Bowling Club" - it is Tuesday afterall.

Oh yeah, and I found ANOTHER grey hair. Damn.

Sigh. Just another day....

Yes!

I thought I saw Danny Wallace on the tube. It was very exciting. OK, so maybe it was not him....but I am going to pretend it was. If I had of been quick enough (ie. not laden down with a 17kg backpack and aeroplane legs) I would have jumped aboard and given him one hell of a high-five! BTW - he is the author of "Yes Man!" And he is also a bit of a dish.

This is because I think I am having a "yescapade". Or at the very least, I am starting to understand the joy of "yessence". Yes took me on my whirlwind tour and back to some of the most important people in my life. Yes has seen me performing non-stop this year, writing, singing, stand-up, impro, comedy festivals....scaring me into challenging myself and my abilities and all the while rewarding me with experiences and great fantastic memories. And I had not even read "Yes Man" yet when all this begun!!!!

I am such a fan though, because Danny Wallace completely put into words the thoughts and feelings I could not - you know how you get that with songs??? Its like you would have said that - if only you could've.... well, thats what I got from Yes Man...well, that and a bit of a crush.

I have been back hom for not even two days...I have already worked through a myriad of emotions....what adventure next eh...? I am indeed ready for one!

Sleep is for the weak!

Yes, Jon Bon Jovi makes a fine fine argument. Indeed, I am currently in Dublin, almost at the end of my lightning tour....its just not enough time - but its better than no time at all.

I have way too much to say to put into an entry in an internet cafe - particularly when surrounded by the local youth that seem to frequent this place almost nightly, logging on to chat rooms and typing WAY faster than I - ahhh, my own youth, how I miss you.

One thing though is my determination NOT to be tired. With such limited time with my friends here and within this city that I love so much, I am trying hard to look sleepiness in the eye and tell it to be gone! Alas, I fear I will be carrying more bags under my eyes than actually on my back for the flight home.

Sleep is a funny thing. I am acutely aware whilst sleeping of all the different sounds and smells of the cities I have been so briefly in these last two weeks - but have been suffering a few nightmares. In particular I had a sleepy encounter with the undead in the back canals of Venice - very creepy....and my old nemesis of sleep - the chikd catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is back - Maaaaaan he creeps me out. Luckily, I intend on not sleeping much at all for the last four nights abroad - like Jon says - I'm gonna live while I'm alive and sleep when I'm (un)dead.

Me Me Me Me Me Me

You know, sometimes, it really is all about me. I could try and lie and say that I am a fairly generous spirit, a good listener, a people person - but lets face it, only OTHER people can truly say that about someone, you cannot say it about yourself. Where is this leading, I don't know.

Actually, I do know, my mind just went on a little tangent. The other night, I was listening to a CD and I thought to myself "oh my GOD! These lyrics are about me." Now I was not thinking this in a "don't you love it when you can totally 'get' what an artist is trying to say" or a "I totally connect with this song" kind of way - no, I really was under the impression that I was the "you" in the song....maybe because I know the songwriter...see - all about me. SO? Conundrum. Should I ask? No. I mean, its easier (and more fun) to just assume....isn't it.

Two more sleeps and I am off on my trip abroad. Its going to be fab! Once again, all about me...but then again, who else would it be about?

Mandy Warhol

Say no more. No really, say no more.

Slap Happy!

I slapped a man last night....and it felt good.

Allow me to elaborate, seconds before going on stage last night for an impro show I am performing in, my colleague Cale Bain said "If any one of you ladies is going to slap me in a scene, really slap me, I mean, feel free to have a go...." So I did. It was quite fairly exhilirating actually....

I have only ever slapped one other person and, due to the emotional circumstances under which said slap eventuated, I cannot actually remember what it felt like - afterall I had just been pushed against a wall by a male friend, called a slut and narrowly escaped having my face raped....(what can I say? I was young and not a great judge of character!?!)

So without further ado, I say thank you Cale Bain. Thank you for putting your cheek out there to feel the weight of my hand - oh yeah, and I hope your jaw has stopped clicking.

Positively Negative

I had my first ever pregnancy scare this week.

It was not so much that I thought I was pregnant but that I thought about "being" pregnant....and I was frightened.

I am so completely committment-phobic that the idea of being pregnant, which would ultimately suggest a man in my life, brought on a panic attack of sorts.....I am sure one day I will meet someone that I am so enamoured with that I will look back on my thoughts of today and laugh.....but not yet.

Meanwhile, my days of carefree splendour continue and the countdown to the "AB: Lightning Tour" is on - 17 days to go.

AB and AB

I just realised that Arj Barker and I are both AB's. Not that this is some sort of profound discovery or anything, but its just something I suddenly noticed when reading his blog about being in Letterkenny. This is only remotely of interest because I have also been to Letterkenny - its in County Donegal in the top end of Ireland. They have a HUGE Tesco there....which makes shopping fun. Especially since in Oz we cannot buy our alcohol in the same aisle as our biscuits.
Anyway, I thought to myself, "oh Arj, we have so much in common, like Letterkenny and our initials." OK, so thats only two things in common. How many do you have? OK, so probably more than two....it was just something that I thought of. And two is better than one, and SO much better than none.
I like this photo of Arj and I because I have good hair and we are both wearing happy colours. His hoodie was really soft and smelt of fabric softener actually, I found myself in a strange moment where I was feeling the fabric of the aforementioned hoodie and Arj was like "yeah, its soft man" - and then we both realised the time for me to stop touching him had come....and gone....and I was still touching him. Ahhh memories.

Nothing more than feelings

This week, I have experienced the following emotions....

- Anxiety
- Jealousy
- Lust
- Guilt
- Joy
- Delight
- Frustration
- Giddy
- Content

Its been a good week.

Amen!

Things you don't want to hear....

Actually, that title should read:

"Things you don't want to hear said about you" or more specifically, "Things I don't want to hear said about me"....or if its possible "Things not to say at my funeral"

- "She was larger than life." This is a euphemism for something else surely, and its usually used when one has died, choking on a sandwich or similar. I really do not like that phrase at all.

- "She gave it her all" or "She always did things to the best of her ability" - again, a euphemism for "she was crap but tried". Not comforting words.

- "I think I still have a CD/DVD/book of hers" - Give it back. I am still alive.

Dear Julia - I am sorry.

I am not normally a competitive woman. That said, if I am going to be competitive, it would usually be over something that I would have a pretty darn good chance in winning. If by chance it was a competition with one particular being, chances are that being would be a person that I have met or am realistically competing against.

Julia Davis does not know me. Nor does she know that I even have a grudge with her. Well, its not a grudge really, its just that she is the girlfriend of the man I love. Well, when I say love, I mean, you know, the kind of love you have for a man you have never met but have seen on the tele and think he is a bit of alright.

Julia Davis is the girlfriend of Julian Barratt, from The Mighty Boosh. My first reaction (because of course one does have a reaction upon hearing the news that some guy they are never likely to meet is dating a woman they are never likely to meet and so never really having any impact upon their life at all) was to think that surely a couple who share the same shortened name ie. Jules, would never last. Then I had to question what it was he could possibly see in her.... and then well, I found out.

Wanting to know who had won the affection of the man that I would never marry (or even meet) I did a google search (what? We ALL do it) and was directed to the television series Nighty Night. My questions were answered.

Julia Davis is goddamn hilarious. And a bit of a comic genius. If we had of met under different circumstances (well, if we had even met)I am sure we would have been friends. I feel I may even owe her an apology, as quite frankly, I was well out of order to doubt that Julian Barratt could possibly be with anyone else.

So let me take this opportunity to apologise - I am sorry Julia. In fact, without sounding too schmaltzy, you are my hero. When I grow up I want to be just like you. Nighty Night is up there in my list of all-time funniest and cleverest things to be entertained by. You rock. I am sorry. I hope you and Julian are very happy together.

Mea Culpa
Amanda

Whats the frequency Kenneth?

So I am working in a new office...one that I am not usually accustomed to and one where I have had to abdicate my power over the office radio.
As the newcomer, I have no say as to the frequency and I must say, I am unhappy.

My checkered employment history (18 jobs in total - some lasting only a few hours) has seen me quit jobs for many a petty reason, choice of radio station being one of them.

As I am a guest in this current office, I am hesistant to cause a fuss... at present I have taken to bringing in my iPod or CD's to play on my computer, making it obvious that I object to Huey Lewis and his News.

This glitch aside, I am sure given my powers of purchasing in said office, that when I switch their standard tea to Irish Breakfast, my smile will be a lot less forced.

Meanwhile, in other areas of my life, I am being kept awake at night by Luke and his crazy girlfriend (name withheld due to not knowing it) who live across the street and have a nightly argument where it seems Luke is obviously ruining his girlfriends life by breathing or something equally as sinister, forcing her to run into the street screaming "Luke....why are you doing this to me????"

This forces me to ask "Luke? Why are you doing this to ME??????"

Long live rock'n'roll.

The Daily Chent

My friend Lee Rainbow invented a word - chent. It is a verb meaning to chat and vent at the same time.
Here is my chent today:

1) I found another grey hair today. This scares me as I colour my hair, in fact I have not had my natural hair colour since 2001 when I shaved all the coloured hair off, and that only lasted until my hair was long enough to colour again....my point? That I could be walking around with a full head of grey hair and don't even know it!

2) I had to prove to a work colleague today that the word "mischievious" does not actually exist and that he has been mispronouncing "mischievous" (like SO many others) his entire life. Mrs Lawler had zero tolerance for that mispronunciation, a lesson at age 14 I would never forget.
Thank you Mrs Lawler.

3) In my workplace I have to walk through a MALE change room to get to the rest of the office - surely that doesn't sound so bad. Well, considering the fact that most of the 60 men I work with are my fathers age, I would have to say that walking in on the daily shower run is not an event I try to stage - indeed, I could very well be put off men for the rest of my hair-greying existence if I have yet another run-in with a shirtless colleague ....

That is my chent for today. Thanks for letting me get a few things off my chest. I feel better. I hope you do too.

Something for everyone

I know I am probably being naive and you are all very aware that the Independant Order of Odd Fellows is a very reputable, well known organisation that do great work for the community ... I myself am not aware of this and so will resort to making fun of their name.

Then again, why can't the Odd Fellows have their own Order???? Who am I to judge?
(Though I won't stop any of you from judging.)

I saw this place down in Adelaide, BTW, whilst visiting my sister and bro-in-law and my newphew. I recommend checking Adelaide out, give it a chance, have a go.

There are lots of Lutherans there too.

Daily Affirmations

Ok, so .... the quote on todays desk calendar comes from a William Osler -

"It is much more important to know what sort of patient has a disease than what sort of disease a patient has..."

Now, I'm no Joe Science BUT hello? I am pretty sure I could not give any less of a damn whether my doctor knows that I like Jane Austen novels ... I'm wanting to know what that rash is and what I can take for it.......or is that just me? Food for thought at 7.43am.

Oh and I don't have a rash.

Its gone now.

I'm joking - I never had one.

I didn't.

Like none of you have ever had a rash.

Shut up!

Nannageddon

School holidays.
Supermarkets.
Oh dear.

Today I told a child (not my own) to "get down from there" and another to "stop touching all the apples" - I have prematurely nanna'd myself.

Scarily enough, its not the first time - over the weekend, I called a young man of about 12 "charming" as he spat on the footpath.

When did I stop being cool. (lets assume collectively that there was a time when I was cool...) Its got to stop.

Warm Milo anyone?

if you're happy and you know it....

Yes, you know how it goes!

So, I was just reading Arj Barkers blog and he recently went to see Radiohead. I have to agree with Arj on many things - Radiohead are a must-see live band. They rock like there's no tomorrow, then tug at your heart strings and make you question everything you thought you believed then throw some rock action at you again. Before you know it you are buying the TShirt and signing up to the Johnny Greenwood is God fansite.

I love live music. The whole bit. The last gig I went to was Belle and Sebastian. Man, how good are they. I had no idea what to expect, as this was the first time I was seeing them and you don't really get photos of the band with their CDs or much to go on by their film clips.

They were just magic. They also have a lot of songs that you cannot help but clap along to - and they are very happy to start a bit of a group clap along - you know, where the guitar is just left hanging for a moment while your man out front claps his hands above his head until we all join in. This happened a few times and I was smiling and bopping away, clapping my hands up high....that is of course until that moment when the clapping dies down and you realise that you are the only one still clapping. If you stop immediately, the people with the funky haircuts around you will know that you could not handle being alone out there in the clapping stakes - no you cannot just stop. You have to let your own clapping die down too, then quickly replace it with some sort of little dance that requires your hands so that the funky haircut people think nothing more than you were ready to progress from the group clap to your own little dance because you march to your own drum....in which case by this stage the front man is letting his guitar hang again and leading the crowd in a mass clap-along.

I am intimidated by people with funky haircuts.

So clap your hands.

10 weeks and counting!

I must be crazy. Or bored. Or just so free from commitment that I feel the need to justify my carefree ways by doing something carefree. Because that is exactly what I have done. Or decided to do. As in I have decided to do something carefree....

After an early morning phonecall from the other side of the world, I have been coaxed to spend a paltry sum of dollars and get my behind over to Dublin in order to join some friends for a weekend in Venice.

Talk about an adrenaline rush....within 24 hours I have booked five flights (heck - if I am going to Dublin, I might as well visit my mate in Amsterdam and end the trip with a London West End show - you'd do the same surely.) Now, I just have to sit and wait for the time to pass and pack my things for the "AB Lightning Tour!" I cannot wait.

In the meantime, I think I am reaching a fork in the road, or a corner that needs turning or something. I am incredibly restless at the moment. Slightly disatisfied with administration work - don't get me wrong, I still get excited by a cleared "in tray" - but the rewards are few and far between....I kinda feel like everything should be moving at a very fast pace and that there are things in the post, alas, I am a tad on the stagnant side of motion at present with the only promise of excitement being the end of financial year....

Thank god for the passing of time and the countdown of ten weeks until the Lightning Tour....

Maybe I should stop listening to Morrisey for a while. Now where did I put that Funky Soul Sister CD???

It Used To Be About the Music

So, I realise I am getting old. I have always known, what with the passing of time, that I would grow in age but the signs are becoming more and more obvious.

I learnt recently about a new kind of music, a new genre if you will. Emo music. I heard it mentioned a few weeks ago and I passed it off as being a lame name for a band, little was I to know that a whole sub-culture was forming under this lame title.

How could I not know about a whole new kind of music. I am very musical - I have hundreds of CDs, and yet, there nestled in between popular and heavy metal/thrash was this new section. How had I missed it?

On closer inspection of course, I realise that maybe I had subconsciously missed it because it is entirely unlistenable. At least complaint rock sounds just like what it is. Its a little whiney and a little whingy but it rocks out. Emo? Huh?

I wonder how the bands/singer/song writers feel about it all. Garage days spent with electric guitars and posters of Kiss or The Beatles dreaming of the future....only to write some fluff with a bit of distortion on it under the banner of Emo music.

I really am getting old.

Satan, Santa and so on.

You would have to have been hiding under a rock not to know that the significant date of 06.06.06 recently passed us by - afterall every radio station and news program reported on it in completely original and interesting styles. Needless to say it was more talked about in my office than the weekly "footy tipping results" which I have to say draw even more yawns from me than the topic of the so-called day of the devil.

What I found interesting about this day however, was the car accident I was involved in. Sydney has recently had incredibly wet weather, so you know, the chances of ploughing into the rear end of a ute has been that so much higher. And if by chance you are me, and you are listening to yet another report on the radio about how Satan is coming, and you chuck a little tantrum about how sick and tired you are about being forced to listen to yet another disc jockey put his spin of hilarity onto the subject than the chances of you ploughing into the rear end of a ute is no longer a chance - its a certainty.

And that is exactly what happened. Whilst throwing my hands into the air to show disgust at the radio, the ute with the huge tow-bar in front of me came to a dead stop. I slammed on my brakes of course, but what with the excess of water on the road, my dead stop was about a metre too late.

The other driver pulled over so that we could access the damage and as he got out of his car he said, "Well, what else would you expect on the 06.06.06?" (Well, I would not have expected anything as original as that!)

Low and behold when we checked both vehicles, there was no damage. Unless you consider a scratch on my front bumper damage - which seeing as I had just been stopped by a utility tow-bar, I don't. So much for the day of the dark lord - I was feeling pretty damned chuffed!

As if to soldify my good fortune for the day, I was treated not five minutes later to a Santa sighting. Its true. Father Christmas is working the off season, driving a cab around Sydney. Maybe you don't believe me, but what else could I expect on the 06.06.06?

The whole "Scotch Girl" thing...

So back in 2000 I went to the States. It was a great trip and I went with my awesome pal Becks. One of our stops was Las Vegas and while we were there we checked out a show that was playing in the casino Circus Circus, which was where we were staying. We had to find our way to the venue and so enquired at the information desk...the conversation went like this:

AB (me) - "Hey how are you? I'm looking for the comedy show that's on tonight..."

Lady - "Oh my God! A Scotch girl!"

AB - "Uh sorry?"

Lady - "You're a Scotch girl!"

AB - "Ummm, no actually, I'm Australian."

Lady - "Honey, I know a Scotch person when I hear one....Ken! Ken! Come listen to the Scotch girl!""

Obviously, she didn't know a Scotch person when she heard one...I imagine she also didn't know a Scottish person when she heard one.

And that is the Scotch Girl thing.

Why Blog?

Well why not. I figure, if I can blame the fact that I had a pack a day smoking habit on peer pressure, then I can plead the same here - everyone else seems to have one.

Though, I did quit smoking five years ago (not counting when I get drunk and have one and then swear blind I will never have another, until five months later I get drunk again ... see the pattern. Though I get drunk plenty without having one...HEY! Don't judge me!) so you know, I may quit this soon enough.

I am currently cat sitting for my friends Lee and Marlo. Lee said I could use his computer and I was all like "Uh, no, I am sure I will not touch it..." and well, I could not help myself.

And no, I am not scottish.